


And the ground taunts my wings

by Buttercup_ghost



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Abduction, Ambiguous Relationships, Angst with a Happy Ending, Chara protecc but they also attacc, Child Abuse, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Implied Relationships, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kidnapping, Multi, Narrator Chara, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Undertale Pacifist Route, Soft Chara
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-12-09 02:08:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11659401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Buttercup_ghost/pseuds/Buttercup_ghost
Summary: Plummet as I sing,Plummet as I sing.Frisk disappears, but they have to come back, right? Theyalwayscome back,right?





	1. Scared I'll die, of uncertainty.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fear might be the death of me, fear leads to anxiety.

They're gone.

It happens so fast, one day they're there, the next gone. The police say it was a overnight kidnapping, whoever did it was professional, most likely the work of multiple individuals, but ultimately the case grows cold. You can't help but think it's because you're monsters, that the police didn't try as much, your ambassador is gone and no one seems to care.

So you take matters into your own hands.

Alphys looks up camera video, hacking into street cams in a way you're pretty sure isn't legal, but you can't find it in you to care, focusing on finding frisk. You deduce that a anti-monster group most likely took them, holding them who knows where, doing who knows what. You want to be angry, but you're just tired.

Almost a week passes since they've been kidnaped, three days of searching, and now the police have completely given up. Only after two days they've been saying that they're probably dead, and now they seem to have stopped looking entirely. Still, though, you keep looking. It's not that you have hope, you're not sure the last time you have had that, if you're honest, it's just that you're not sure what else to do. Asgore and toriel are distraught, thinking they have lost another child, but not wanting to believe it. You hate seeing them like this, and despite yourself, you as well miss the tot. So you keep looking.

Undyne is pissed, at first, restless and mad, understandably so, but soon, when it's clear that you won't find them anytime soon, she doesn't know what to do with that anger. Often times, in the wee hours, you see her punching a bag, and you swear you hear her crying. Whenever you bring it up, she denies it.

Papyrus, your dear, sweet brother, still has hope. You're not sure if he'll ever loss it, it seems like a coping mechanism at this point, always smiling and telling himself that it will work out, even if he's not sure it will. He tries to cheer everyone up, really, he does, but all he gets is some watery smiles and quiet thanks.

Flowery claims he's not worried. You can tell he's lying.

Two weeks pass till you get a lead, at this point even papyrus is starting to look down, but at the news of a possible place they could be, everyone perks up a bit. After a few days of investigating, it turns out to be a dead end, but everyone feels just a bit more determined to find frisk, now that leads are coming in.

It takes another week before they get a good one, a promising lead that turns out to be true. They lead their group into the lion's den, deciding that since the human police were useless, they'll go in with their own. Undyne is battle ready, a spear in her hand as she creeps her way to the door slowly, and you can feel your eye start to burn in anticipation. You both hear cries from inside, though, and alarmed you both rush to open the door, wondering what horrors they've done to frisk.

When you open the door, a gruesome scene mets you. The floors are covered with blood, figures littering the ground, someone crawling towards you, tears in their eyes, as they plead for help. Amidst it all, there is a figure of a child, hands holding a knife, a smile on their face. You can't tell if they're laughing, or crying.

All you can think is, _that's not frisk._

 


	2. There's a million, billion, trillion stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But I'm down here low, fusing over scars

The kid stares off blankly, mouth pulled up into a smile that looks more like a grimace. You look, eyes boring into them, incurring. Their eyes shift, a bit, as if trying to get away from your gaze. Toriel is hugging them, sobbing and happy, having not seen the scene you did. Undyne is looking at them weirdly, like she doesn't know what to make of them, but she doesn't say anything, instead texting her gf the good news. A little later you see her pick up a call, and hear crying from the other end, presumably from alphys. Asgore hangs back a bit, still so unsure around kids, afraid that his touch will shatter them like glass. You just continue to stare.

It doesn't make sense. You know the kid is borderline violent, likes knives, red eyes gleaming at horror games, as if they could relate. But they've never smile. That's a constant. Their face is always neutral, never pulled taunt, as if nothing could phase them. Even when they cry, their expression hardly shifts, near closed eyes peaking out at the world in a slant. They always seemed to hate their eyes, so different from most humans, but lately they've been seeming to get more comfortable with them, eyes opening just a bit more. Still, though, they were never this wide, this _scared_ , like a cornered animal with nowhere to run. They don't look happy to see you, instead nervous, instead afraid. They're _afraid of you_ , more so than any human, because they don't know how to handle you. Humans, they know what they feel about them, _hate_ , you saw it in the way they glided their knife through them, how much pain they put them through, and how much they _hated_ them because of it.

But they don't hate you, so they're scared.

After toriel fusses over them, asgore awkwardly pats their back, and everyone filters out, leaving to go check to see that flowey and papyrus haven't burned down the house, and to prepare for their return, the kid sighs, and turn towards you.

“Sans.” They greet, teeth gritted, hands clenched.

“Heh. No need to be so tense, kiddo. It's not like I'll eat you or anything.”

 _“Sans.”_ They try again, eyes clenching, and it sounds like they're begging, though you're not sure for what. If you didn't know better, you'd say they're tearing up.

They take a deep breath, plastering a wide, wide, all to _wide_ smile on their face—it doesn't look quite right, it's a bit to clumsy, as if they weren't used to this face, this _body_ , you note—trying to get their shaky breathes under control.

“They're gone. Frisk isn't here.”

And then this child, this child you do not know, starts sobbing.

 


	3. I can clean impurity, wash away with kerosene

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can’t offend my modesty, thank you for defiling me

“Ok, kiddo, start talking.”

The kid has your jacket on them, sniffling still, sitting down. You're at the new grilbys; you took the kid here to try and get them to calm down. They clear their throat, and look up at you, instead of staring blankly at their burger.

“Frisk… I'm not frisk.”

You snort.

“Yeah, I gathered that.”

They glare at you a bit, a blush crawling onto their cheeks and you blink. It seems so familiar, but so foreign on their body, like a forged picture.

“I'm… dead. I'm buried under the fucking earth, sans.”

They sigh, hand coming to their temple, turning away from you.

“Frisk fell on my grave. Well, on the golden flowers that grew from by body—I must have had seeds on me from the village—but…”

It dawns on you, then, what they're talking about, and you realize why their expression seemed so familiar yet out of place. You've seen ghosts of it, before, in dusty photo frames locked away because they were to painful to look at.

“Somehow, I became attached to them… maybe because of how we both have red souls, a rare kind, made of almost complete determination. When we were together, we had enough to even rewind time… of course, _you_ already know this.”

Their is no accusation in their voice, as if it was just a fact they accepted, and that scares you a bit. You had no clue the kid knew you knew, so they must have found out timelines ago, and how casually they say it implies that it's been a long time, enough that it's just the normal, and that terrifies you.

“Who are you, kid?”

You ask, even though you think you already know, and they laugh bitterly

“Chara.”

Great, your girlfriends and boyfriends dead kid replaced their current one. Just great. You sigh, eying the kid some.

“So how come frisk isn't there?”

They frown, face scrunching up, as if trying to figure out how to put it.

“I mean, they are, but they aren't. They're not talking, or moving, or doing… anything, really. It's like… they went dormant.”

“Huh.”

They huff, a bit, in apparent frustration, before running their hands through their hair.

“It just doesn't make sense! They didn't do anything to our soul, I mean, they did do other stuff, but nothing to our _soul_. This shouldn't be happening..”

You stare, a second, alarmed, just a bit.

“Other things?”

They cringe, and look away.

“Well, they were… they were hired by their… the people who were… owning the house frisk resided in before the underground, who also appear to run a anti monster thing… and the guards… they did cut us up and beat us a bit, but that's not…it… frisks… previous guardians… did. Something.”

You notice how they actively avoid saying “family” in reference to them. You notice how uncomfortable they look. You notice how their arms are hugging themselves, as if to protect them.

Your eyes go out.

“They were abusive.”

It's not a question.

Chara flinches, a bit, at your empty eyes, then nods. Their expression is now bitter, eyes full of disgust.

“It's not unusual around here.”


End file.
